


Early

by sunalso



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, Dorms, Early Mornings, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21784102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: Academy Era AU. It's Fitz-Simmons last year at The Academy. Early one morning--too early--Fitz wakes up to find Jemma looking for something that's not a textbook.Beta'd by Gort
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 23
Kudos: 115





	Early

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Please note for this fic that all characters are over the age of 18. Written for the prompts "You come to my room and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?” + “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” Happy reading!

The Dalek alarm clock beside his bed projected 3:55 am, which was too bloody early to be awake. Fitz closed the one eye he had open, only to snap both open at the sound of rustling fabric.

“It’s just me,” Jemma’s voice said, and he relaxed. Somehow, after nearly three years of being at the Academy together, her being in his dorm room at odd hours had become normal.

“Did you forget something?” He snuggled into his pillow, his fuzzy mind trying to figure out the day. Sunday? Last night had been pizza and reviewing techniques for their field assessment—they were so going to fail—which meant it had to be the arsecrack of Sunday morning. He tugged the quilt over his head. “I think your text for chem is on my desk.” Anyone beside Jemma looking for school stuff at this time of night would be weird.

“It’s Advanced Hydro-Chemistry of…never mind, I wasn’t looking for it.”

“Your mobile?” He yawned and cracked an eye open again. Jemma had a tracksuit on, her hair down around her shoulders. Her hands twisted together as her shoulders hunched. “Is everything okay.”

“Yes, no…I had a dream, and then I couldn’t stop thinking.”

He pushed himself up on his elbows. “About? Is this a math problem?” Calculus would be easier than being awake right now.

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Move over, Fitz.” He started to, but her hands went to the hem of her shirt, and she tugged it up, revealing a soft green camisole underneath that he certainly hadn’t seen before. Lace the shade of a summer forest molded to her tits, because she didn’t have a bra on. She pushed the track pants down, revealing a pair of very short shorts the same color as the lace.

“Uh,” he said, all the exposed skin sparking ideas that crowded out rational brain function.

Jemma lifted the corner of the quilt and slid under, lying down with her back to him. Fitz had nothing but his boxers and one sock on. It didn’t feel like enough when Jemma showed up in scandalous nightclothes and climbed into his bed. At eighteen, he couldn’t exactly be held responsible for the reaction his body had to her warmth and sweet vanilla scent. His heart’s reaction was even less under his control.

 _Love her_ , it whispered with every beat.

“Are you going to lay down?” she asked, sounding quite cross. The traitor in his shorts jerked and throbbed. 

“Um, well, I’m still trying to figure out what we’re doing.”

“Cuddling,” she said, shifting until her foot found his leg. Jemma ran her toes down his shin, then hooked her foot over his ankle and gently tugged his leg towards her.

Fitz carefully reviewed every interaction they’d had for the last week in case he should have been expecting this, but nothing stood out to him. Except for the girl, whose name he couldn’t remember, from their xenomaterials class who had asked if he’d wanted to go to some concert on Saturday. Jemma had stared daggers at the girl, and he’d declined because he’d already had plans for pizza and studying with Jemma.

It still didn’t add up to up to a nearly naked Jemma in his bed. “You come to my room at four am and wake me up to cuddle?” he asked, wondering if she might be teasing him, or practicing something for their field evaluations.

Jemma stiffened while her foot stopped trying to coax his leg and disappeared. “I thought…” She rolled over, and if he didn’t know her so well, he might have bought the blank expression on her face. Instead, he could see a wealth of her tells. Her eyes drifting to his shoulder, the left side of her lips tightening, her pinkie trembling. All signs of her being upset. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. It’s cold, and we can sleep in before pancakes for breakfast.”

She tried for a smile, and the knowledge he’d mucked up something hit him with the velocity of orbiting space junk. Jemma put her head on his pillow, her arm and breasts doing something that allowed him to make out the shape of her boobs even more accurately. His cock reminded him that it was ready to go.

He lay down on his side, facing her.

“See?” she said, her voice fake-cheery. “Friendly cuddles to stay warm.” She scooted over and plastered herself to his front, her arm over him, and pressed together from chest to thighs. There was no way he could hide his erection, and he fought a groan when her soft, scalding-hot center ended up cradling his prick as her leg went over his. The pleasure of it lanced through him in tandem with the terror of what Jemma would do with the evidence of his desire poking her.

She gasped, and he scrunched his eyes closed, expecting her to pull away. Or maybe slap him like they were in a movie. Perhaps yell at him.

None of that happened. Jemma’s palm cradled his check as her hips rolled, grinding —fuck, that wet heat was her cunt—herself against him.

“Fitz—”

“You’re my best friend,” he ground out. Which meant he couldn’t listen to his heart as it beat only for her.

Jemma made a sound close to a growl. “We’re not just friends, and you fucking know it.” She rolled her hips against him, sending a wave of pleasure to drown his senses, then paused. “Okay, we really are good friends, but not just friends, and since I’ve been a mess since Mandy asked you out, including dreaming you went out with her and I walked in on you two—” Fitz didn’t want to talk about Mandy, whose name he probably still would never remember, or what some idiot dream-version of himself had done.

He wanted Jemma. He didn’t want this slow grind of bodies ever to stop. He put a hand on Jemma’s back, trailing a finger down the curve of her spine until he could grab her arse. It filled his palm, round and taut, and he dug his fingers in, pulling her harder against him.

“Oh, Fitz,” Jemma moaned. “I need an answer. Are we together like this?” She undulated her body, making him breathless from the feel, and leaving no doubt about what ‘together’ meant.

Fitz somehow opened his eyes. Jemma’s face was dead serious, and a little flushed. He had so much to say to her, so many questions. His lips parted, and his heart took over. “Love you,” he said.

A smile, real and very wide, spread over her face. “That makes everything easier.”

“Oh, yes, it simplifies the fact I’m unexpectedly dry humping the woman I’ve loved for years at four in the morning on a Sunday.” He couldn’t keep any train of thought straight; all his were crashing into a giant snarl.

“Ugh, Fitz. I mean, I love you, too.”

“Well, that does simplify things.” Not at all. He felt like he might be floating ten feet over the bed with her. The last piece of his life slid into place. Fitz hadn’t realized he’d been waiting for this. For her. “Jemma.” He tried to kiss her, but her hand on his face didn’t let him.

“Condom?”

Bugger. “Why would I have a condom?” He frowned. “Why don’t you have one?”

“Because I thought you’d have one.”

“Sure, for the multitude of people I’m bringing back here to shag when all I can ever think about is you, and you’re off-limits.”

“Not anymore.”

He didn’t have a response for that, except to kiss her. Jemma’s ripe lips glided against his, and she boldly shoved her tongue into his mouth. She tasted of honey and everything beautiful, and he knew he’d never get enough. The tip of her tongue explored systematically, as if she might be cataloging him along with kissing him. It was the most Jemma thing ever, and he fell a little more in love with her, pressing hard against her crotch as they snogged.

Jemma moaned, wriggling and humping against him. Sher broke the kiss with a soft cry. Her body stiffened, trembled, and he froze as he felt her pussy pulsing against his prick. She’d come.

“Fitz,” she mumbled, her cheek pressed to his.

His synapses tried to fire. Jemma had gotten off dry humping him. She’d orgasmed against his cock.

He couldn’t think, but his body seemed to know what to do, so he gave up on being rational. He bowled Jemma onto her back, kissing her greedily. Propped on one arm, he cupped her tit with the other hand, the nipple a hard point even through the lace.

Her top stayed in place as he tugged at it. Her boobs were right there. Frustrated, he planted his knees to free up both hands, grabbed the thin material, and ripped.

Her breasts spilled out of the torn fabric, more perfect than he had words to describe.

Jemma laughed. “I could of—” The end of her sentence turned into a groan as he sucked her tight, tawny nipple into his mouth while thrusting his cock against her thigh. Jemma stroked her hands down his back, arching into his mouth as he feasted. He nuzzled the sweet undersides, licked, sucked, and scraped his teeth over the nipples until they were tight, dark points, and the words spilling from Jemma’s lips didn’t make much sense anymore.

He’d never been happier.

#

Jemma hung onto Fitz’s shoulders and congratulated herself on having made the right decision. It would have been simple to dismiss her nightmare as nothing, those images of Fitz humping their classmate while telling Jemma he hated her, and…well, she wouldn’t have gone back to sleep, but she could have read or studied.

But she’d needed the real Fitz to make it better and had tossed a tracksuit on to scamper through the morning chill to his dorm. She’d been expecting a few cuddles with a sleepy Fitz, which would be nothing new. Jemma hadn’t thought much about what pajamas she had on, only that she’d needed him. Seeing him had driven home that she liked him a lot, and not just as a friend. The lingering fear and hurt from the dream had goaded her into looking right at her feelings for him instead of hiding them away like normal. 

And then she’d completely lost control of her emotions as she’d gotten upset as they talked because he couldn’t seem to read her mind for once, then had appeared not to want to touch her, and then she’d been terrified he really did hate her, only to cling to him and find that no, they were on the same page after all.

Which she should have expected. The shirt ripping had been a knicker-melting surprise, but Fitz was excellent at problem-solving and usually tried the least circuitous route first.

Fitz nipped an aching nipple, and she arched against him. She should have brought condoms because, of course, Fitz didn’t have them. At no point had he been bringing a string of women back to his dorm for casual sex. He’d obviously been waiting on her.

Damn it. Jemma’s fingers dug into Fitz’s back as she lifted hips, rubbing the soaked crotch of her knickers against him. How long would he have waited if she hadn’t had a dream to smack her with the proverbial cosmic two by four?

Dry humping him was much, much better. And not nearly enough. Too many of the alternatives to penetrative sex involved not being face to face, and she wanted him right where he was. He probably didn’t have lube, which ruled out anal sex. The only alternative she could come up with would be to have him thrust between her legs, rubbing against her clit but not inside her.

“Fitz,” she said, but he didn’t respond as he continued to tease her breasts with single-minded focus. The pleasure from her orgasm was still echoing around, fueled by his mouth, but she wanted so much more. Jemma threaded her fingers into his curls and directed his face up to hers. He made a very Scottish noise of complaint and tried to duck his head again, but she held tight. “Fitz, I’m very wet.”

That got his attention, but then his face fell. “No condom.”

“I remember, but I’m so slick you can thrust between my thighs if you’re okay with being naked.”

“Yes,” he said, his mouth finding hers again. Jemma hooked her fingers in his boxers and pushed them down, breaking the kiss so Fitz could wiggle out of them completely. He was left kneeling between her legs, hair mussed, and his cock jutting out, pointing right at her.

Jemma congratulated herself again. She really had excellent taste.

“Now me,” she prompted, moaning when Fitz settle his long-fingered hands on her belly. He stroked over her hips, catching the waistband of her shorts and slowly stripping them down. She mewled, lifting her hips to help him, and marveling at his expression of fierce concentration. Her knickers finally rested below her shaved mound. Fitz paused, then quickly pulled her shorts the rest of the way off and tossed them away.

“Do you always stay bare?” he asked, a fingertip circling her mound.

“It’s practical. A spy never knows when they might need to wear any sort of outfit.”

His brow raised. “We work in a lab.”

“Yes, but…just fuck me.” She did not want to lay out the argument she’d been working on for going into the field together. That could wait.

He didn’t, instead pressing his finger between the lips of her sex. “You are soaking, Dr. Simmons,” he said, and she would have tossed a pillow at him, except that his cock bucked. A drop of precum slid down and dropped onto her leg.

Jemma gasped. “Dr. Simmons is done waiting.”

Fitz choked out something that might have been a reply as he dropped down over her, his knees on either side of her legs as she pushed her thighs together. He used a hand to press the head of his cock to the space right below her mound, positioned himself, then thrust forward as his mouth found hers.

For a few seconds, everything was awkward, limbs in wrong places, teeth and lips clumsy, but they were two geniuses. Fitz’s thrusting became rhythmic, his shaft gliding between her thighs as she rolled her hips and ground her clit against him. Her nipples slid against the smattering of hair on his chest, and their tongues stroked each other.

Pleasure coiled in her belly again, tight, warm, and just as bright as the joy and love swirling in her chest.

Everything felt right and as it should be.

The world made more sense.

Their grades would probably go up because neither of them would be trying to restrain parts of themselves.

Her hands gripped his arse, encouraging him to plunge faster as her peak neared. “Fitz,” she moaned, breaking the kiss and pressing her cheek to his. “My Fitz.” She came soundlessly, her body arching as the bliss swept through her.

Fitz groaned. “I can feel you coming. Fuck, Jemma.”

His thrusts sped up, their bodies slapping together, and his cock grew impossibly harder.

Jemma held on tight to him, kissing the corner of his jaw as he grunted.

“Jems,” he whispered as he went rigid, his cock pulsing with his release. It coated her upper thighs and arse, dripping down to pool under her on the bed. She adored it.

Fitz, panting, collapsed on top of her, and she stroked his back as he nuzzled her ear.

“Are you going to fall asleep?” she asked as his breathing returned to normal.

“No, I’m bloody well going to get up and go get pancakes and condoms.” He sounded surly, but when she pushed him up slightly, he was grinning widely. Joy to match her own glinted in his blue eyes.

“Is the pancake and condom store even open yet?”

“Too happy to care.” He kissed her nose.

“We need to study,” she teased him, trying to look stern.

Fitz kissed her chin. “Don’t worry. I’m going to study anatomy for hours today.”

“Promise?” Her cheeks ached from how big her grin was, and she agreed with Fitz. Xenomaterials sounded far less interesting at the moment than human sexual A&P.

“Promise.”


End file.
